


What to Call a King

by alfie_bet



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cuddling, Late at Night, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Waver has Serious Questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 15:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20066086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfie_bet/pseuds/alfie_bet
Summary: With the Holy Grail War starting to reach a head, a young master finds that he has a question for his servant.  Nothing too important, but important to him all the same.





	What to Call a King

“What...should I call you?”

He knew that the question had come from out of nowhere, when the bedroom was so still, but he was afraid that he’d never ask it if he didn’t take the chance now. Waver and Rider laid next to each other, the other man’s arm draped over his middle, Waver’s back flush against his chest. It was the quiet, their positions, that had brought the question up unbidden. It had been one of those things that he had been almost too afraid to ask, like it would break whatever it was that they were if he did.

Names were powerful, every mage knew that. It was one of the first rules of magic, after all. Only a mage fully confident in his abilities would dare speak his name to his opponent—to share one’s own name in battle was like announcing one’s weaknesses. In a way, Waver could understand the rules of the Holy Grail War, and why each servant kept their name a guarded secret. The saber-class servant had even gone so far as to conceal her weapon, so that no one could even hazard a guess.

Rider, however, was different. Even in his first confrontation, he had introduced himself as “Iskandar, King of Conquerors” to both Saber and Lancer. At the time, Waver had thought he had managed to summon the stupidest servant—what kind of person would give away such precious information at the very beginning of a war? Did he want to lose? Yet, he had spoken his name, his identity, with such confidence that Waver even began to doubt his own judgment.

The young mage was broken out of his thoughts when Rider shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, “How do you mean, boy? I thought that variations of ‘idiot’ and ‘Rider’ suited your needs just fine?”

There had been a hint of a laugh to his words, Waver almost able to see the amusement dancing across his servant’s face. Somehow, the idea of an easy smile and mirth in that gaze made Waver’s face heat up considerably, “Idiot, that’s not what I’m trying to—”

“See? I think those work just fine. Get some sleep, boy.”

“...No, I’m not sleeping because I’m not done talking to you,” Waver rolled over, a noise of frustration in his throat when his leg got caught in the blankets. He kicked them away with some annoyance, earning a chuckle from the man beside him. His frown deepened—he didn’t want to be amusing, he was trying to have a serious discussion.

“You’re not listening to me! I’m asking you what I should call you, seriously—”

Rider sighed, humming as though deep in thought, “...to be honest, boy, I’ve gone by many names. You can pick from a list—”

“You’re not hearing me,” Waver leaned up, resting his hands on the sides of Rider’s face. He knew that he was laughably small compared to Rider, but that didn’t stop him from trying to assert what little dominance he had, “I am asking you, what do you prefer. What name do you want me to call you by, when it’s just us, like this. I won’t...use it all the time, but…” he frowned, dark green eyes meeting unflinching red. 

There was silence for a long moment, Waver wondering if he had gone too far. His hands slipped from his face, resting on Rider’s chest. He lowered his gaze, voice losing its edge, “...I’m sorry, that was—”

“Alexander.”

“What?”

Rider was looking down at him, his hand having moved up to rest in Waver’s hair, “If you want a name that badly, boy, call me by my first. Before anything else, I was Alexander.”

Waver nodded, his frown softening. He focused on his hands as he spoke, his face obscured by a curtain of dark hair, “...like I said, don’t expect that from me all the time, you’re still ‘Rider’ if another servant or master is in earshot—”

“Yes, boy, I know. You don’t need to remind me,” Rider’s thumb brushed the hair away from Waver’s face, the mage’s skin flushing again beneath his touch. 

Waver moved closer, resting his head against Rider’s chest, “...I’m tired. Tomorrow...I don’t know. We still need to hunt down Caster and his master—”

“Let’s save the planning for tomorrow, boy. No soldier can march when he’s dead on his feet,” Rider grabbed the blankets, pulling them up and over them both. “Rest easy, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“...okay. I...goodnight...Alexander,” Waver whispered the name drowsily, like he was testing it on his tongue. Moments of silence passed as the young mage’s breathing evened out into a deep sleep.

Rider smiled, his hand stilling in Waver’s hair. The Holy Grail War was still going on around them, no doubt the gears of fate turning even as his master slept. Whatever the next few days brought, victory couldn’t be certain. Saber, that little girl, still had so much on her shoulders. And that Archer...well, he could be dealt with when the time came. For now, though, nothing could break this moment—he’d make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. It's about a good decade late, but I finally watched Fate/Zero. First time writing for these two, I wouldn't complain if they ever made a series just for them. (Here's hoping for more of that good pining content from Lord El-Melloi II.)


End file.
